


With a Swing of my Wand

by miraimisu



Series: A Drop In A Dry, Dry Desert [Lonashipping Day | March 2020] [8]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sun & Moon | Pokemon Sun & Moon Versions, Pocket Monsters: Ultra Sun & Ultra Moon | Pokemon Ultra Sun & Ultra Moon Versions
Genre: Bickering, F/M, Making Out, Moon and Gladion could be The Badass Couple, Rivals to Lovers, Sequel, Sexual Tension, Wherein they literally fight tension out, and they end up in a very sexually compromising position and-, as always, but they choose to be like This instead, sorcery!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:35:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23383873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miraimisu/pseuds/miraimisu
Summary: DAY 7 (2) | Mt Lanakila - Wish/Challenge"Oh,shut up." She snatches her hand out of his grasp, smirking as she continues to look for books. "You spend all day lecturing all the students you're housing like a grandad. You're gonna start growing wrinkles at this rate."Gladion crosses his arms with a frown that lacks all the weight it should have. "You'll be the main cause of my wrinkles. Out of the hundreds of people in this academy, you're by far the one who gives me the most headaches. I can't understand why you have to be this troublesome."Moon turns to him with a smile befitting of a Cheshire cat. "Jealous of my matchmaking abilities and my sorcery prowess, Mr. Grumpypants?""Absolutely not. I'm just wondering how long it will take me to punish you for your crimes. I might have to confiscate your favorite cauldron soon."
Relationships: Gladio | Gladion/Moon
Series: A Drop In A Dry, Dry Desert [Lonashipping Day | March 2020] [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1674022
Comments: 9
Kudos: 20





	With a Swing of my Wand

**Author's Note:**

> The prequel to this fic can be found [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22055851)!

The trip from her homeworld to the magic realm isn't as tiresome as one would believe. Sure, she usually gets to the Mismagius Academy as though someone had just blown her house up, tense and fragile in her mood, but that's because working as a botanist and dealing with plants that could very well eat you whole is a tiring challenge.

Moon isn't one to shy away from challenges. Her status as an elite sorcerer confirms this. She's dueled nearly everyone in an academy that houses the very best and the very gifted, and it burns for many to say that a human-blooded sorcerer like her can make them bite the dust with a flick of her wand.

Or her hand.

It depends on her mood, really.

Moon has always known she's better at books, potions and bending over a cauldron that she could very well curl into and sleep in, so that's what she sets out to do when she gets to the academy's main building. She waves at Lillie as she heads to the Brewing Alleys, she walks by Ilima and Mina as they walk to the Overgrown Orchard and she ignores Guzma at his useless attempt to rile her up for her not-so-friendly-disposition today.

Plumeria smacks his head and drags him away before Moon can get her hands on him, and when she gets to the silent library, she rolls her neck with a sigh and begins the routine task of piling books to study in the basement and solitude of the brewing room.

Suddenly, a firm hand hits right on a stiff muscle of her back and Moon abruptly melts into the bookshelf in front of her.

"Someone's stiff today," Gladion mutters in amusement, thankfully ignoring Moon's small whines. "You could have stayed in your apartment for once if you're this tired. You're such a workaholic."

"Oh, like you're one to talk. You're holed in your office all day." Moon mutters into the wood of the bookshelf. "I can smell those nasty flowers in the council's room off from you. It reeks of elitism there."

"I wish I could lie and deny that statement, so I will just let it slide like I do every single time." And that's something he shouldn't do; he's known as the firm, heavy hand of justice in this academy, but both know he doesn't precisely play by the rules when it comes to her. "Only you would come from work to dive your nose into a book right away."

Moon gently pries herself off the bookshelf, ignoring the slight quiver of her knees as she does so – a very recurrent reaction to Gladion's touch as of late – and drops her pile of books on a nearby small table between bookshelves.

She ignores how Gladion is following close behind her. "It's the only way I can distract myself from how awful work was today. At least no plant will try to bite my fingers today."

Gladion wordlessly lifts her wrist and inspects the damage while she picks another book, shakes her head and puts it back. "Your life is a classic tragedy."

"Oh, _shut_ up." She snatches her hand out of his grasp, smirking as she continues to look for books. "You spend all day lecturing all the kids you're housing like a grandad. You're gonna start growing wrinkles at this rate."

Gladion crosses his arms with a frown that lacks all the weight it should have. "You'll be the main cause of my wrinkles. Out of the hundreds of people in this academy, you're by _far_ the one who gives me the most headaches. I can't understand why you have to be this troublesome."

Moon turns to him with a smile befitting of a Cheshire cat. "Jealous of my matchmaking abilities and my sorcery prowess, Mr. Grumpypants?"

"Absolutely not. I'm just wondering how long it will take me to punish you for your crimes. I might have to confiscate your favorite cauldron soon."

"You can't even lift a chair with your magic, Gladion."

"That's not my point."

The conversation hits a soft silence after that. Gladion lingers behind her, opening the books she has piled up in keen interest, even though Moon knows he's read all the books in this room at least twice.

It shows he's interested in her endeavors.

She pretends that it doesn't matter to her – because they're rivals, and that's all they'll ever be – and continues looking around.

"It's good to know you're taking on more practical magic. I hope this puts an end to your reign of terror and you stop terrorizing people with your terrible matchmaking skills."

Oh, there it goes again. She knows perfectly well what he's talking about.

" _Listen_ ," Moon turns to him, one finger pointed at him in accusation. "I don't do this for a living, I'll have you know. It's not my fault you're blind to the blatant romance all around this academy. It's safe to assume Guzma's got more emotional awareness than you."

"Guzma is a _punk_."

A _powerful_ punk.

Moon grins all teeth and mischief. "Exactly. You're lucky I haven't put my hands on Plums and Guz yet. _That_ would be great." She looks at the ceiling, one finger curled under her chin. "I know of a few spells to calm him down a little. I doubt making Guz a little more mellow will do the trick, no pun intended."

The thought puts an idea in her head that Gladion doesn't let her develop. "Don't."

She pouts, even if it's all an act and she knows it wouldn't have worked out anyway. "You're no fun sometimes, Gladion. You have absolutely no faith in my plans. I'm offended." Her eyes are stale in an attempt to show an attitude and piss him off. She succeeds spectacularly. "I'm one of the most powerful people here. I could turn all the sexually frustrated students here into families and fix the orchard– you just won't let me do the lord's work."

Gladion places one of her books on top of the precarious pile and takes a step closer to her, eyes narrowed. "Don't you remember what happened last time? Had I not stepped in and you would have gotten into _heaps_ of trouble with the magic council."

She grins again. "But I _didn't_!"

And she skips happily to the next bookshelf.

Gladion remains close behind her, tone teasing despite the soft frown in his face. "Well, you at least know now what it feels like to be put under that influence. I was hoping the empathy everyone says you possess would hold you back from acting again. You should know better now, Miss Troublemaker."

Moon tenses abruptly. She had a quip ready at the tip of her tongue and now it's molten until she's hiding a faint blush, staring at the book before her as though she's still focusing on the task.

It's a very knowing jab concerning a night they don't talk about very often, that night of New Years' Eve. It had certainly been eventful and _wonderful_ in ways Moon still denies to herself. It's not every day that a member of the magic council puts a spell on you and renders you to a mess you didn't even know you could be, blushing, sensitive, apprehensive.

He had used his magic to knock some decency into her.

They had thrown decency out the window when they made out on that balcony like they couldn't get enough of each other, and after parting from each other with uncanny hesitance, all Moon has to think about is whether Gladion thinks about that night as much as she does.

Because she thinks about it too much for it to be merely platonic _but Moon has told herself that if she lets it be the feeling will die because plants die when you don't water them and–_

She lets out a very long sigh.

"You're tense again," Gladion comments. The sneer is evident even when she's not looking at him. "And I'm unsure why but I know that means trouble for me."

When she _does_ look at him, though, he's biting back a smirk and, for a split second, she wants to believe that he hadn't meant to embarrass her and that he's acting like the professional he's meant to be.

Part of her wants him to remain professional; another part is wondering why they aren't making out against these annoying bookshelves already.

Moon abruptly reaches a conclusion and slams the book she's holding onto the wrong shelf.

She turns to him, arms crossed. "Let's go to the duel fields."

As though he's been struck by lightning, he blinks. "This late? What for?"

She rolls her eyes and grabs his arm, dragging him out of the library like him and Lillie have done to her countless times before. "You said I'm tense, you're a dumbass, and I wanna give you a beating now. I'm feeling whimsical today and letting loose for a little will help, right? I promise I won't blow up the chimney again."

Much to her surprise, Gladion doesn't put a fight as she drags him out of the building– not a physical one, at least. "You have alarmingly violent whims for a woman as serious as you."

She throws him a smirk over her shoulder. "I'm full of surprises _–_ and Guzma taught me a very handy spell."

"Oh really?"

"Oh _really_."

* * *

Moon hadn't had absolutely any time to practice the spell Guzma had taught her the week before, but it comes to her as natural as making it rain. The silence that encapsulates the duel grounds is ideal for her to focus, and Gladion is kind enough to give her a chance to try the spell on him.

He hadn't expected it to toss him all the way across the field, though.

He emerges from the dust with no damage but a bruise to his ego. "I should have known better than to give you a head start."

Moon only grins wide and evil, resembling that of a cunning cat in a dark alley, and she holds up her wand in defiance even when her enemy is beaten down. "I'm giving you two seconds to stand up before I use your body to sweep the floor with. Last warning."

Her demanding tone is but a farce and both know it. Moon has this habit of putting up a very dramatic act whenever she's in a duel, but it's not like he's any better in that department. Fighting one another is a kind of dance that has no gentleness to be expected in something as oddly intimate as this. It's a dangerous dance where they nearly kill each other and still laugh it off.

Moon used to think she'd live a happy life, only for Gladion to almost give her a concussion with his next spell. She fights back with one of her own, holding onto her wand as she fights his magic with her own. His spells are always vibrant and full of intensity, like his eyes, his words, his gazes, his touch, his lips, his–

Her grip and focus wavers and she barely dodges one of his spells by a hair's distance. If he sees the spark of distraction in her eyes or the dull pink on her cheeks, he doesn't say anything. She could chalk it up to frustration with how well he's fighting today.

Their magic clashes again in a torrent of lights and fizzling. Gladion huffs, maybe feeling victory is near considering how tired Moon allegedly is, but he doesn't know how clever a weasel like her can be.

Taking advantage of the momentum, Moon lets the spell go and the lack of a force holding his magic back pulls him out of balance. She dodges his magic and gracefully sweeps him off his feet with one hand, gives him a playful somersault in mid-air and lets him fall to the floor in a crumpled heap.

Moon giggles into her hand as Gladion groans in absolute defeat and frustration, but before he can grab his wand again to fight his way out of loss, she's straddling him and slanting a hand over his wrist.

His green eyes peer from his unkempt hair. She's looming over him like a lion with her teeth bared. "Did you think you could kick my ass because I'm a little sore, Gladion?"

"Of course not," he rasps out, still trying to wrangle his hand out of her grasp. "Anyone in this academy would be foolish to underestimate you. I just hate it that you win all the time."

"I'm a genius."

"And you have exceptional luck," Gladion mutters, sighing as he lets his hand hang loose, accepting defeat for now. "Nobody but you has beaten me in a duel. Maybe Lillie, maybe my parents, but their blood is stronger than mine, that's to be expected."

She blinks in momentary confusion. "Stronger blood?"

"The ancestors of my ancestors were all sorcerers. I have magic in my blood, and Lillie does, and my parents do, and so on. The longer the family tree, the stronger the blood is. Most people in this academy have magic in their veins, even if it's a little."

She arches an eyebrow. Her wand is still in her hand and she's holding it out, debating if she should finish him off or let him go on with this conversation. "And?"

"You have no magic in your blood. You're a plain mortal."

"Excuse you, _nothing_ is plain in me."

"I know that." Something in his voice when he says that makes the hairs at the back of her head stand up. "But that doesn't mean other people see it that way. And with that comes a little bit of doubt, you know. Reservations."

Moon puts one and one together dastardly fast. "They're scared a mortal can kick their ass to Saturn and back?"

"Basically."

"And how does the member of the magic council feel about it, hm?" Moon leans down a little closer, taunting him with her superiority. Her eyes are vicious and mischievous, and his crinkle with something akin to a challenge. "How does it feel to be right under a mortal that can kick your ass?"

Something flashes in his eyes that she can't discern. Maybe he's considering being honest or joking around for the sake of a light conversation, but their position and the sudden tension hanging thin in the air invites to the former.

Gladion bites into the bait. "It feels nice. Considering new people have reservations about you, it's nice to know you can kick their ass. I don't want anybody belittling students just because they weren't born to be sorcerers."

A question crosses her like a star, one she shouldn't wish on, one she shouldn't even consider, but she grabs onto it and lets it burn her hands like lava.

"Do you," a moment of hesitation. A second to consider herself, to knock some awareness into herself, a second to not inch closer like she's doing. "have reservations?"

One of her hands curls around his shoulder and she feels his ghost over the surface of her hip as his other remains balled into a proud fist by his side– maybe to give himself the strength to pull away, or maybe to keep his impulses at bay. She's not sure what sort of magnetism has made her lean down like this, leaden gray gazing into bright green with the intensity of the sun.

His voice is a thread of feeling. "No. You know I don't."

A question lingers in her eyes. "Not even if your rival has beaten you up in a duel?"

His eyes become steel, determined. "What if I said I prefer it that way?"

She gets to answer that, because her words dissolve into silence as their lips meet, pulled by a gravity she can't describe, something that physics can't explain. Her lips slide against his leisurely, grasping his surprisingly strong shoulders, sighing in relief. It's not as passionate as she would have expected, but there's a fine thread of feeling between them in every touch that she can't shake off. It makes her feel giddy all the same.

Their last encounter had been heated and impatient, all about touching, marking, branding, burning, whereas this is more intimate, and dare she say _romantic–_ but none of them are romantic creatures, they are _rivals_ , so she pushes the thought aside.

His concept of romance might be the very telling tremble of his body as he keeps himself quiet and still. His shoulders are stiff under her fingers, his chin is jutted forward in want, and when she pulls away for a brief second, he nearly chases after her, both of them out of breath.

Gladion is stiff under her. Moon presses the back of her hand on her mouth, debating on what to say now. There's a challenging glint in his eyes that is asking her for one thing: _more_.

Smirking, she whispers against his lips, "You're tense, Gladion."

And that's all that it takes to push him over the edge.

It all happens in a blur. A clap of silence passes and suddenly she's being pressed to the cold floor of the dueling grounds, his hands firmly clasped on her hips as she loops her arms around his neck and they fall into a steady, heated cadence. It's a familiar dance they have partaken in before, one that Moon still remembers in the dark of the night and the comfort of her bed.

He handles her like her comfort doesn't matter yet catches her eye with a vulnerability for _her_ that she can't explain, and when she pulls at his hair, he fights her back and pulls at hers, pressing his body against hers harder until there's no space between them.

Moon doesn't know what to hold onto; her body is beginning to shake and she can't get a firm grasp of her wand anymore. His tongue brushes her lower lip and she lets him do as he pleases with her, meeting hers with easy touches and burning wanton. His hands sneak under the hem of her shirt, touching soft skin, burning fire into her stomach in ways she had only read in books were possible.

A moan comes from the back of her throat, so needy and telling she instantly chastises herself for it. She bites into his bottom lip gently and digs her nails into his shoulder, stumbling to grab her wand to not lose it, maybe to keep it in her pocket, maybe–

"Yo, Gladion! Miss Wicke's lookin' for ya!" A familiar voice comes amidst the heavy white waves of abstraction washing over her, his ragged breathing, her pants for air. "Dude, where are you? You gotta be here some–"

Hau gets his answer when Moon suddenly recovers her sense of self-awareness, grabs her wand and clumsily flings Gladion away from her, successfully tossing him into Hau's view and across the fields.

He lands in a pile of unused gardening supplies and Moon can't concern herself with whether he landed safely or not, for she's scrambling away from the dueling grounds with a hand over her face, covering her vibrant, violent blush.

Hau mistakes her hurry as enthusiasm to see him. "Moon, what's up? I didn't know you'd get here today, my dude! I'm so happy to see ya'!"

The only answer he gets is a muffled sentence he can't even begin to understand as she quickly brushes past him and bolts back to the academy's main grounds. Hau is left to stare at her retreating figure in absolute cluelessness as Gladion slowly picks himself up.

Hau, as happy as ever, doesn't notice Gladion's disarrayed shape, attributing his unkempt hair to his landing. "That was dope! Never expected to see one of the higher-ups get thrown like trash!"

Gladion looks over Hau's shoulder and catches the colors of Moon's clothes disappearing into the eternal night. He sighs. "She might be a prodigy but she still can't control her magic when she's flustered."

"Huh?"

Gladion clicks his tongue and sighs. "C'mon. Let's practice dueling. I need to let off some steam."

"Oh, ya sure do! Moon always gets ya' super fired up, eh? Your face is all beet red, dude! I bet she gave you a badass duel, she's so cool!"

" _Shut the fuck up,_ Hau."

**Author's Note:**

> me, holding a broom: FUCKING HOOK UP ALREADY I'VE HAD TO DEAL WITH YOUR SEXUAL TENSION FOR 2 FICS 
> 
> /jams broom on the floor ad infinitum
> 
> anyway THIS is it for lonaweek this time I HOPE TO SEE YOU AROUND SOON LONNIETOONIES, THIS WAS LOTS OF FUN yall better read what the others have written and drawn because it's top notch stuff and everyone is very talented in this fandom even if I just make two fools fool around until they inevitably fuck the shit out of each otherCOUGH COUGH
> 
> I'll write that scene someday I promise
> 
> but TIL NOW THIS IS IT FROM ME watch me go back to my usual schedule and roll around in a squealing mess THIS WEEK WAS GREAT THANK YALL FOR YOUR FICS AND SUPPORT AND EVERYTHING
> 
> /yadda yaddas away
> 
> lonashipping is everything everyone praise the moon


End file.
